


You Pulled the Pin, Now You're Too Late

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k18 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Prompt: Traumatic Haircut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 23:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15982328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: After four months in space, Lance wants to give everyone haircuts. It doesn't go as well as he'd planned.





	You Pulled the Pin, Now You're Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> Yo guys, I am well aware I'm already writing a fuck ton of things but I got a Bad Things Happen Bingo card and I couldn't resist. If you'd like to request stories from it you can see it on my tumblr arwenride.tumblr.com.

“No thanks.”

“Come on, Keith.”

“No.”

“Keeeeeeeeeeith.”

“I said no, Lance.”

Lance pouted and crossed his arms, the bare tips of silver scissors protruding from the space near his elbow. The floor at his feet was coated in a layer of hair, all in different shades of brown-- the result of the last several hours after he’d insisted on giving Hunk and Pidge haircuts and having Hunk do his. So far Keith had eluded his notice, until now.

“Dude, I know you’re attached to the mullet, but we’ve been up here for nearly four months and it’s getting out of hand. You have more split ends than this Castle has glitches!”

Keith scowled and mimicked Lance’s posture, curling his fists into the side of his jacket.

“ _ No. _ ”

“Come on, just a trim.” Lance snipped the scissors playfully at him, and a cold chill went down his spine, the back of his neck prickling. 

“No, I’ll do it myself.”

Lance scoffed at that. “With what, your knife? It’ll look ridiculous!”

“I don’t care!”

“Lance,” Hunk finally stepped in, his voice floating from where he and Pidge were trying to attach some kind of vacuum device to Rover. “He said no, leave it alone.”

He groaned dramatically, throwing his arms to the side. Keith couldn’t help but flinch when the scissors brandished in his direction. 

“Fiiiiiiine.” Lance sounds like it’s the worst thing he’d ever had to agree to. “But mark my words, mullet. I’ll get you into my chair if it’s the last thing I do.”

_ Snip snip _ went the scissors for emphasis, and Keith felt bile press against the back of his throat.

_ Not now, not now, _ he thought frantically, rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to banish the maddening prickling sensation. It didn’t work-- he could feel it spreading down his spine and over the backs of his arms. Lance had moved on from the conversation already, asking Hunk and Pidge about Rover, but he could still see the scissors sticking out of the back pocket of his jeans, gleaming menacingly.

It was ridiculous, this fear, this cold buzzing over his skin whenever the mere mention of letting someone else cut his hair was made. He shouldn’t react so violently, it wasn’t a big deal, how many people had told him that, but despite his own stern reprimands the inevitable attack is already in progress. 

Keith turned on his heel. Lance is still behind him and the thought is sudden, irrational, and overpowering: that Lance is going to spring for him, tackle him down, bring the blades close-too-close to his skin, near the old white scars from the  _ last time _ \--

He held himself together just for long enough for the door to slide shut behind him. Then he ran.

The fear clung to his back the whole way, even when his feet took him to the safety of his bunk. 

_ Stop stop stop, _ he begged himself,  _ please, _ but it won’t. The tingles of impending touch soar up and down his spine, crinkling over his scalp, and his stomach roils like a maelstrom. He doesn’t lock the door behind him  _ he’ll get in more trouble if he locks the door _ but he needs to be safe, he needs something at his back, something to keep anyone from getting behind him. He can already feel the blades and the blood dripping down his neck.

It’s humiliating and ridiculous, but he clambers under the desk in his room, curling into a ball and crossing his hands protectively over the nape of his neck. He sits there, soothed by the dark, trying to breathe through the panic. He can only hope this attack will pass quickly and no one else will see him like this.

No such luck.

It’s too long  _ not long enough _ before someone knocks on the door he hadn’t locked.

“Keith?” The voice is Lance’s, and Keith’s heartbeat triples.  _ No, not yet _ . “Keith, dinner’s ready.”

Keith holds his breath, hoping Lance will think he’s not there and look for him somewhere else,  _ spare him for a few more hours  _ give him more time to calm down. He doesn’t. Instead the door beeps and slides open, and Keith presses himself ever further into the nook of his desk. Shame and fear duel in his gut.

“...Keith? Are you ok?”

He opens his mouth, fishing desperately for an excuse as to why he was hiding under his desk like a little kid, but as usual his tongue is faster than his brain.

“Go away.”

“What?”

“Go away!” This time he shouts it, and if he had anything to throw at Lance he would’ve. “Stay away from me!”

Heavy, lingering silence as Lance hesitated in the doorway. There’s a slight shuffle, Lance turning to someone else, and when he speaks his voice is low again.

“Hunk, will you go get Shiro?”

Keith wants to protest, wants to tell him no, don’t go get Shiro, don’t bother Shiro with this, but then Lance steps into the room and Keith’s eyes catch the glint of the scissors still in his pocket and  _ this is it he’s gonna make me and it’s gonna hurt and it’s gonna be my fault cause I can’t hold still _ \--

“No!” He shouts and his gut clenches  _ he shouldn’t have yelled they don’t like it when he yells  _ and Lance jumps. “No, I’m not doing it! You can’t make me!”  _ He needs to shut up they don’t like back talk it’s only going to hurt more the more he fights  _ and Lance drops into a kneel, peering under the desk at him with wide eyes. 

Keith isn’t even looking up anymore. He has his head buried in his knees, arms wrapped around it for protection  _ it’s not enough they’ll just drag him out _ . 

“You can’t make me.” He mutters into his knees  _ despite knowing full well they can make him _ and doesn’t look up, even when Lance shuffles closer on his knees. 

“Keith?” He flinches, curls away from the voice. His knife is heavy on his belt but the thought to reach for it doesn’t even occur. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Keith doesn’t answer. 

“I’m not… I’m not gonna make you do anything, you know that, right?”

“Liar.” The whisper gets out without his permission and  _ god now he’s really screwed _ . But the expected hit doesn’t come. Instead, Lance just sounds confused.

“What?”

“You… you said…”  _ Stop talking stop talking stop talking _ .

“Huh? What did I-- oh. Oh, shit, Keith, I didn’t mean it. Earlier, about the haircut, I didn’t mean-- I won’t force you, I was just messing around.”

_ Keith is very, very still _ .

“Hey, Keith, look at me. Please?”

_ Don’t don’t don’t _ he looks. Lance’s face is creased in worry, and as Keith watches he very, very carefully reaches into his back pocket. The scissors are hidden from view, but he hears them hit the floor and skitter away, and Lance holds both of his hands back up, empty.  _ Is this a trick _ he relaxes, just a little bit.

“I won’t make you, ok?”

Keith sucks in the deepest breath he can manage. Out in the hallway he can hear approaching footsteps and  _ that should worry him _ but he’s calm. (Calmer). The scissors are out of the way and as soon as Shiro gets here he’ll be sure no one will make him. No one will hurt him as long as Shiro is there.

“Lance?” That’s Shiro’s voice and he finally lets himself relax. The prickling is beginning to recede, and he knows in a few minutes once the attack is over he’ll be exhausted from all the fear and anxiety but for now it’s ok. “Why are there scissors in the hallway?”

“Leave them out there.” Lance answers, eyes not leaving Keith as he calls over his shoulder. 

“What happened?” Finally Shiro is there. He kneels closer to the desk but doesn’t reach out for Keith yet, which he appreciates, because he’d probably flinch and embarrass himself more. 

“I accidentally freaked Keith out.” Says Lance, voice remorseful, and Shiro’s expression clears in understanding. 

“Ah, ok. Thanks for coming to get me, that was the right thing to do. You and Hunk can go.”

Lance bites his lip, and he hesitates for a long moment before deciding he had one more thing to say before he could leave.

“Hey, Keith? I’m sorry.”


End file.
